Calm Amongst a Storm
by TriniTea
Summary: Grant Ward deals with the aftermath of his encounter with Lorelei. But unlike the last time he dealt with past traumas, he's not alone. (Asexual!Grant Ward AU requested by Anon, Canon Divergent 1x15)


...

 **Author's Note: So basically, an anon on my Tumblr (trinitea-fics . tumblr . com, shameless self insert) asks if I could write an asexual Grant Ward AU and that concept really intrigued me. If you haven't read any of my other works, I mostly write SkyeWard, but I have been looking to expand my horizons and I thought that this was the perfect opportunity.**

 **I was scared to write this at first, because I don't know everything that has to be known about asexuality, but I was up the challenge and I had to do tons of research. There were kind people that helped me get it right so thanks so much to them :)**

 **And just a trigger warning for mention of rape, this is a lot more mature than I have written before.**

 **But anon, if you're reading, I hope you enjoy :)**

...

As the water begins to run cold, Grant Ward lets out a deep sigh before turn the shower handle to off. It's his fourth today, yet he still doesn't feel clean. In a way, he feels like he's a stranger in his own skin and it's a feeling that he can't seem to shake, a feeling that he can't wash down the drain.

He has spent nearly a half an hour scrubbing and rinsing his body, over and over and over again, until his skin began to tint red and the pads of his fingertips had wrinkled up. But no matter how hard he tried, he could still feel _her_ touch on his skin; her nails digging into his shoulder blades, the teasing kisses that she trailed down his chest, her hot breath against his neck encouraging him to go faster, to go _harder_. It's all still there, following him, haunting him like a ghost.

He slides back the shower curtain and reaches for his towel perched on the countertop. The odd drip of water falling from the shower head fills the silent room as he delicately pats his skin dry.

After slipping on a new set of clean clothes—briefs, a gray t shirt and a pair of black sweats—he glances into the mirror while towel-drying his hair. His eyes are then drawn to a bruise—no _hickey_ at the crock of his neck that he had failed to notice earlier. His pauses before hesitantly skating his fingertips over the faint purple-ish-red skin. It burn under his touch. Just closing his eyes for a split second, he's taken back to that moment; her hands weaved into his hair while her plump lips furiously attacked the soft skin on his neck. Simply the thought make him want to jump back right into the shower.

Ward takes a deep breath before shifting the collar of his shirt up so the mark is hidden by the gray cotton, and then turning to the door.

...

It's been ten hours since their last mission and ten hours since he was under that Asgardian witch, Lorelei's control. Even though all that time has passed, it feels like he was under her control just moments ago.

Wherever he goes, whatever he does _'I could have been stronger, I could have been stronger, I could have been stronger'_ plays in his head like a broken record. Even when he's trying to force his frustrations onto the punching bag, or when he's listening to FitzSimmons' undecipherable science babble, that little voice still lingers at the back of his mind. It's pushed to the far corners of his thoughts, but if he lets his guard down for just a moment, the thoughts of what she did to him comes crashing back like a wave, threatening to pull him back into the depths.

He doesn't go to bed, that will just give his monsters the opportunity to run rampant. Ward would just spend another restless night, thinking over what went wrong, what he could have done, how he could have stopped it. In that case, staying up past a reasonable time was much better that lying away with his thoughts.

Ward instead chooses to sit under the light of a table lamp in the lounge, indulging in a book—Catch-22—that Garrett insisted him to read. It's historical fiction novel set during World War II following an Air Force Captain and his squadron. It's an interesting read and he so far has found it enjoyable enough. It focuses his energy on something other than drowning himself in a sea of self pity.

The plane is silent asides from the hum of the engine that he's managed to tune out during his stay. Glancing at his watch, he sees that it's approaching midnight. From the last time he checked, FitzSimmons have already gone to bed while he suspects that Coulson is resting in his office, May is spending another long night piloting the BUS and Skye is probably washing up, unless she's spending another night in the med bay.

He's about a quarter's way through the book when he hears footsteps reverberate from galley; bare feet shuffling quietly against carpet floors. He doesn't bother to look up, he's already positive that he knows who it is.

"Hey Robot," Ward looks up from his book to see Skye (confirming his suspicions), walking around the couches towards him. She'd changed into more comfy attire—an oversized t-shirt and yoga pants—and has her hair pulled into messy pigtails. "Simmons finally let me out of the med bay dungeon and I can finally sleep in my own bunk. It feels good to be free from Dr. Simmons."

Ward snickers before looking down to where he left on in the story. He flips another off-white page as Skye's footsteps draw closer.

"You've had a long day," Skye speaks, now standing in front of him. "Shouldn't you try and get some sleep?"

He sucks in a breath and his hands tense. Ward dog-ears the page corner, shuts his book closed and places it on the arm rest. He then mutters, "I can't." He looks at her, but avoids gazing into her dark brown orbs.

"Oh, I forgot," her voice, this time, is almost a whisper. Then Skye takes a seat beside him, their shoulder rubbing as she sinks into the sofa cushions.

She continues, "I'm sorry about what happened with Lorelei. That should have never happened to you, being controlled like that. I couldn't even begin to imagine how that would feel." Ward turns momentarily to see her eyes that bear that empathetic look that he's seen many times before. "Don't blame yourself, you were under her control."

Ward looks away from her while taking a long exhale. "It's...more than that."

It was bad enough to be controlled; having to almost kill May and to put the lives of the team at risk. But the other things that Lorelei made him do, the more _personal_ affairs, that's what's been sticking with him through these past hours. That's what's driven him away from sleep.

Ward feels the soft touch of her hand at his shoulder. "Hey, Grant," _Grant_ , the last time she called him that was when he was under the influence of the Berserker Staff; a moment of calm amongst a storm. "I told you this once and I'll tell you this again; my shoulder's free anytime," her voice is tender, comforting even.

The first time that he turned down her offer to talk, he ended up regretting it. Instead of letting her in, that night in Dublin he lied awake accompanied by only by his thoughts and the demons that came with them. That night he didn't even get a single wink of sleep and felt even worse in the morning.

If he has only had taken up Skye's offer, things might have been different. Maybe a talk would have scared off those demons.

Now he has a second chance to have a talk with her, why not take the up the offer? What would be the harm? Why should he turn her down and just spend another restless night alone?

But he doesn't really know to start. Where would he even start anyways? He can't even explain everything that's going through his own head right now. Words could only begin to comprehend the racing thought in his mind. He's never been good at translating feelings into words in the first place. He figures that he is not real 'good place' to start, so he just begins to talk.

"You know that as a specialist I like to keep things in my control, that's my job. I keep the threat contained and keep everything in order. And losing that control like that? It just—just doesn't make me feel like myself." Even as the words fall out of his mouth, it seems so—so _generic_ , so much of an 'uptight, Agent of SHIELD Grant Ward' response. It'd be an answer that everyone would know him by, and it doesn't feel like _him_ in a way. It barely scratches the surface of what's on his mind.

Ward laces his hands together in his lap, choosing to focus on his thumbs that fidget around each other.

"Don't worry about that. You're not the first or the only one to fall victim to her voice. Lorelei has taken down kingdoms with her magic. This witch has taken down Asgardians maybe as mighty as Thor. And will all this magical crap, it's impossible to resist or to understand." Skye places a hand on his. It's gentle but holds a reassuring grip.

"There's still more to it." Ward swallows, meeting Skye's gaze for a fraction of a second before looking back at his hands. "Part of Lorelei's powers is that she becomes essentially the embodiment of that man's desires, that what makes men drawn to her and follow her every wish. I didn't think that I was like that, those feelings of lust, that desire...that's not me. I should have been able to resist. I should have been stronger against her."

Skye replies, "Hey, even though I joke that you're an emotionless robot, you're human Grant. It's okay to want something, or desire someone, that's just how humans are. No one is going to judge that you have dirty thoughts once and awhile."

His suddenly head snaps around with look of anger in his eyes that he fails to suppress. "But I don't!" She jumps back slightly, startled by his sudden outburst. "I don't feel that way! That is not me! It's not that I don't choose to think about those things, it's because I was born—"

He cuts himself off. He's said too much. It just slipped out of his mouth before he could catch himself.

Silence is casted over the room like a veil, hanging uneasily in the room.

As Ward hears his heart pounding, he feels the panic setting deep into his bones. It feels like time has slowed down, making five unsettling seconds feel like hours, days, an eternity has passed. He's good at defusing bombs, but situations that deals with his _emotions;_ those are the ones that blow up in his face.

"Ward," Skye looks up at him with her soft doe eyes, her voice is clear and as steady as possible. "What are you saying?"

"Skye I—I... Forget it." Ward grabs his book while rising to his feet, not daring to look Skye in the eye.

Even before he could take a step, he feels Skye's soft hand reach out to take his calloused one. He should have known better, the Skye that he knows would never let just walk away from his problems. That's not who she is.

"Grant, are—are you saying that you're... asexual?"

He swallows hard before replying, "Yes I am...I'm asexual."

Before he could do or say anything else, Ward feels Skye's arms wrap tightly under his chest, taking him into her embrace. The book falls out of his hand, carelessly crashing to the floor. Ward's arms drop to his sides, defenseless, as he tries to swallow his threatening sorrows down his throat.

His vision begins to blur as tears form in his eyes. He can't remember the last time he's cried; maybe it was last when he was a child, but feels like a lifetime ago. Grant Ward doesn't cry, it is unheard of, well, until now.

Skye mumbles against his shoulder blade, "I—I didn't realize... Does anyone else know?"

He closes his eyes, trying to prevent a tear from running down his cheeks—he just feels so vulnerable now.

"Um, yeah, Coulson, Garrett, some of the higher ups."

It's not a secret that he's likes to necessarily keep. As much as he doesn't like sharing a whole lot about himself, he thinks that the people he trusts—at least—deserves to know he's asexual, because that's part of who he is. His sexuality is as much a part of him as his hair colour, his lineage or his height. But in this job, transparency is not common. Stepping out of that closet for everyone to see may not be ideal.

But he trust Skye, he trusts her with his life. He's save her life and she's saved his countless times before. He could say that in this type of ordeal, she's the one he trusts most for the team. But this, this whole thing is uncharted territory for the both of them, and that leaves him unsure what to expect from her.

"So—so does this mean that you're not interested in romantic relationships, at all?" It's subtle, but he can hear the slight hesitation in her voice.

He shakes his head. "No, I'm—I'm just asexual, not aromantic. I'm not sexually attracted to people, but I can still be romantically attracted. Romantic attraction and sexual attraction are different things." He can feel the lower lid of his eyes growing damp now.

"Oh," slight shame emanate in her voice. "My bad. Sorry."

He certainly can't blame her for not knowing, but it does make the pit in his stomach feel larger.

"It's alright, at least you know now. I have to explain it to most people when I tell them."

He takes a deep sigh. All he wants to know is what's going through Skye's head, what she thinks of him how, what she's going to say to him next. She's not insulting who he is, she's not telling him that he's not the 'asexual type'—whatever that bullshit means—, but at the same time, she doesn't seem outright encouraging. It's the uncertainty that scares him most.

Skye takes her arms away from him, but she chooses to take his hand again before guiding them both to sit back on the couch.

Like before, Skye sits right against him, but their hands now are loosely intertwined.

Skye tilts her head up to her left, meeting Ward's eyes. "If you don't mind me asking; have you been in relationships before?"

He looks straight ahead, away from her gaze and nods. "I've been in a few relationships before, most lasting a few months to a year. But I did...have sex. It was fine, I enjoyed it and it made my partner happy. But I never initiated it, or really tried to take the lead in any way, or really had a desire to initiate or take the lead anyways."

As much as they all always hear about rules against relationship, very few agents enforce it. Even though relationships—especially long term ones—have never been his forte, in the long run that's be something he'd like. You know, enviably retire from being a full-duty agent, find a girl, settle down in the countryside, get married, and maybe even have kids. But right now it's not in the cards for him.

He goes on to explain. "There are some asexuals that have sex, they enjoy it and that doesn't make them less asexual. Having sex doesn't make them sexually attracted. There are some asexual that masturbate, that doesn't make them less asexual either. Then there are some that don't. They aren't drawn to sex and don't like to have it. Either is perfectly fine. I guess I might fall into somewhere in between. I'm fine with that kind of intimacy, but I have my own boundaries about initiation and stuff."

He braces his other hand against his knee and tightens his grip on his the fabric of his pants.

"But when I—when I was under Lorelei's control, she made me do _things_. When I was under her control, we had slept together." Ward feels his throat closing up; a tight pain that makes him want to swallow his words, but he fights through it. "But she made me go down on her, she made me take the lead...but she also made me want it; she made me _love_ it, like it was the one thing that I lived for. But that's not me, that's not who I am. I..." he trails off, the thought of it growing too painful for him to bear.

Memories of being with Lorelei then begin to come rushing back to the forefront of his mind.

' _You will present me with an army and I will give you a gift in return.'_ A gift; sex, that he _wanted_. He wanted nothing more that to heed her every command, to fulfill his own desires by fulfilling hers. He couldn't say 'no' and he didn't _want_ to say 'no'. _He wanted all of it; every time she looked up at him with her emerald eyes, every time she kissed him, every time she moaned his name._ Sleeping with Lorelei made him feel complete.

Skye gives him a reassuring squeeze of the hand. "Grant, you were not betraying who you are. Lorelei has controlled even Asgardians with her voice. It's not your fault that she made you do it. She was messing with your head."

His head whips back over to face her. "But I can remember it! _All of it!_ " His breaths become pants; fast and shallow. "I remember wanting to live in that moment, I remember wanting her! I remember _begging_ for it, I—"

"Grant you were raped!" Anger erupts in her voice that could easily have woken the rest of the team. She grips onto his hand so hard her knuckles go white. Skye takes a deep breath, easing her grip.

"Grant," she speaks softer this time, the slight sound of sorrow in her voice. "Grant you were raped by her."

But he keeps on insisting, stating firmly, "But I wanted it!" punctuating every word. "I wanted all of it!" Ward can just feel hints of the Berserker rage bubbling up to the surface of his skin.

"I don't feel like myself anymore! I just don't know anymore, okay?!' with every word his voice before rougher, more broken. "I like it and that's not me, that's not who I am. I-I don't know anymore."

"She made you want it Grant! Don't you understand?" Her eyes are now clouded with tears as she tries to retaliate. "Lorelei was controlling you and she _made_ you want it! If you weren't under her control would you still want to sleep with her? Would you still want to take the lead and go down on her?"

With heavy breaths, Ward slowly shakes his head.

"Exactly," she flashes him a timid smile. "Without her influence you don't want it. You didn't deserve any of that Grant, you hear me?'

Ward looks away and closes his eyes before nodding again.

"You were raped, that is not okay. She _made_ you enjoy it and she _made_ go down in her. You are not betraying who you are because she used her magic to make you like the sex that she _forced_ you to have with her." She takes a hand, placing it gently on his cheek, her fingertips lightly stroking the line of his cheekbone.

"And maybe it wasn't sexual desire that made you drawn to her in the first place. Maybe it was a romantic desire, desire to be love, a desire to be cared about. Plus, like you said; if an asexual has sex and enjoys it, it doesn't delegitimatize their sexuality, correct?"

"Yeah," Ward places a hand on top of her and leans into her touch.

Skye's right. Being manipulated doesn't change the fact that he's asexual. He's not sexuality attracted to people and being controlled by some sorceress doesn't rewrite the code of who his is. He sees that. After being blindsided by a mixture of anger and shame, he sees it crystal clear now.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

Skye cocks an eyebrow up. "Sorry for what?"

"I'm—I'm just sorry that I was beating myself up about it and that you had to deal with me. I'm sorry that I took away from you rest."

Skye laughs lightly. "It's really alright, I'm just glad that I could help. When I say my shoulder's free anytime, you can tell me whatever you need. Whether it's about how it was like growing up or if you think too hot outside, I'll listen."

Ward removes his hand from her cheek and holds it in his own. "Thanks Skye. It means more to me than you think."

Skye smiles warmly at him. "You should be thanking yourself. You're not quite the most emotionally open person I've meet," Ward snickers at the comment (he wouldn't call it quite a compliment). "But you opened up, you decided to talk and you should be proud of yourself. Coming out as ace is no simple task."

Ward returns a small smile. "I guess, maybe I should be."

Ward holds Skye's gaze, accompanied by a soft smile for a moment before she offers, "You know, it's getting late. You want to call it a night?"

Ward shrugs. "I don't really feel like going to bed. I'm too awake now."

"Then I'll just stay up with you," she declares.

"But you just got shot, you need—"

She is quick in intervene, "To rest? I've already got pretty for that. No 'but's Grant." She lets out a slight chuckle. "You need someone, a _friend_ to keep you company."

A _friend_ ; that sounds nice to his ears.

"Okay then, what do you think we should do?" Ward asks, allowing himself to lean further into the sofa.

"Um, if you don't feel like talking, I can grab a few beers from the fridge and we can watch a movie or catch up on last episode of 'Keeping Up With the Kardashians' if you want. Maybe we could play a round or two of Battleship," Skye proposes.

Ward snickers. "Whatever you want Rookie, whatever you want." Her enthusiastic tone almost always amuses him, _almost_.

"Guess we're going to watch some _'Animal Planet_ '. I'll grab some beers and microwave us some popcorn," Skye proclaims as she rises to a stand, their fingers slowly disconnecting. "Be right back." She sweeps his still-damp hair away from his forehead and gives him a friendly, playful kiss. Skye then takes a one hundred-eighty degree turn towards the kitchen.

Once she's faced away from him, Ward smiles to himself. Just knowing that someone else is looking out of him gives him a feeling of—comfort; a luxury that he doesn't usually get. He's not one for telling secret, especially of his own, but he trust Skye.

He trusts the whole team really. Ward trusts them more than most of his own blood relatives. Coulson and Skye already know, May is never really one to judge (vocally at least) and FitzSimmons might just as a few questions as they always do (and if Fitz says something he shouldn't Simmons will slap some sense into him), but that's won't really bother Ward. Maybe, someday, he'll tell them too.

 _Yeah, maybe he will tell them._

It could just be for a moment, a fragment in time, but everything feels right. Coming out to Skye makes him feels like a little bit of weight has been lifted off of his shoulders. It makes Ward feel...calm, something he hasn't felt in a long time.

Calm amongst a storm.


End file.
